


Lost

by tilly90



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Depressing, Draco Malfoy Angst, Draco Malfoy Azkaban Life Sentence, Draco Malfoy Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Gen, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8186365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilly90/pseuds/tilly90
Summary: Draco Malfoy is sent back to Hogwarts, along with the other survivors of his peer group, to start a new term as 8th years. For Draco, it is an illusion, and the castle is little more than a holding cell as he awaits his life sentence in Azkaban for crimes committed during the war. With nothing left and everything lost he seeks his own absolution. MA, Very Dark themes, One-shot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: This is a dark little story, and just plain sad. Please be aware of that before reading.

The new school year had started with heaviness and a lack of knowing of what to do now. For what could possibly be ok now that everything wasn't? The ancient architecture had been repaired; the lawns scourged of the bodies and the bloody remnants of the fallen, in the battle that claimed too many, and in the opinion of some, too few. On the surface, the castle walls looked just as they always had, weathered but solid, comforting and secure. But when one looked closer there were cracks and fissures that even magic couldn't repair.

The true magic of the place had gone, burnt to ash and swept away with the wind. The sun still shone, the rain still poured, and the castle still stood. Some things in this life were omnipotent and refused to yield. Some people were too, stubbornly refusing to give into their own grief and morose feelings, washing them away like the constant tides of the ocean.

Youthful hope was beautiful that way, but also ignorant of the realities of life.

If there was one thing Draco Malfoy could claim of himself, it was that ignorance could no longer be on his side. Nor could hope, although there wasn't much of that to begin with.

It was why weeks into the term, he found himself opening old wounds that had been too fresh to properly heal in the first place. It was why he was climbing the spiraling iron staircase up to the Astronomy Tower, covered by the blanket of darkened skies and glittering stars that would too burn out in time.

His hands had thankfully given him some small reprieve and stopped their shaking as he scaled higher. It hadn't been a fleeting moment, or one specific event that had been the catalyst for this decision. It was time itself that had drawn him ever closer to this point, and no subtle reasoning or timid flicker of thought had given him enough of a reason not to. He was tired, he was burnt out, he was simply done.

The despair of his past wouldn't leave the present, and his future would be nothing but despair behind the dark isolated walls of Azkaban prison. His family had already succumbed to their fate at the isolated dwelling in the middle of the sea. It was a matter of time now before he too joined them, forever lost and forgotten like the constant waves that crashed and dissolved against the fortress.

He had pondered wether it was sick retribution or further torment to make Hogwarts his holding cell before his true sentence was to be carried out before the Wizengamot in a months time.

Regardless of where he was, he was truly nothing now and there was a certain peace he felt in letting go of all the anger and hate that had consumed him for so long. The peace was found when he realised he still had control, in some small way, of himself. His body, his actions, in a way his thoughts too he could control, and it afforded him a brief feeling of elation that for the meantime he still existed. It was a brutal truth but it was enough to get him through till now. He was still Draco Malfoy; he was still there.

He convinced himself for months that he still existed, but then it reached the point where the worth in that seemed folly. He as a person, his very name was deemed unfit for the world and he could see the sense in that more and more as time inevitably wore on.

The last clasping effort to hold onto something, anything of worth had fled, and so it led him back to this place where an old man had tried and failed, and a younger one had succeeded, in protecting an already fractured soul. At that time, anyway.

Draco reached the landing and walked slowly to the edge looking up into the twinkling sky and wisp like clouds aimlessly meandering across the bright little flickers of light. It was truly a magnificent sight and beautiful how still, yet alive it all appeared to be. The crisp night air invaded his steady breaths and pinched and creeped along his pale exposed face looking upwards into the night. His grey eyes flickered over the edge and to the dark green of the grounds beyond, taking in all that he could and focussing on nothing for too long. He kept his gaze roving as his hands held onto the icy cold barrier and slowly hoisted himself up higher until there was nothing holding him back.

The exposure was breathtaking and he felt the same adrenaline rush he had from flying. Just standing there, above it all, he felt that same freedom, with the gentle caress of the wind blowing his cloak around his body.

There was no monologue, and there was no hand or voice to pull him back. For old times sake, and as a fitting goodbye, a small smirk graced his features before he took what he had left and freed it.


End file.
